In Sickness and In Health
by dumpling47
Summary: Two-shot. Thor gets sick, and Loki comforts him - and vice-versa. Very fluffy, no Thorki.
1. Thor Gets Sick

**Teenage!Thor&Loki, just for clarification (:**

* * *

When my brother Thor is sick, legend has it that all of Midgard can hear the rumblings of his sneezes - in the form of thunder, naturally. While I pity the Midgardians for such foul circumstances, I feel even worse for the people of Asgard. We haven't exactly got it easy, being in such close proximity to the afflicted party.

Thor's sneezing, coughing, generally driving the entire realm up the wall, and Mother insists that I see to him.

"_Mother_," I whine, glancing up from my book of spells, "I am in the process of reading about the Magician Freydon -"

"The Magician Freydon can be damned, for all I care!" Mother says good-naturedly, though with a hint of impatience behind it. "Thor is ill, and until he gets better, he requires a brother's love."

"Did he tell you that?"

"I have no time for your flippancy, Loki Odinson!"

When she deals the full-name card, I know all hell is soon to break loose. To continue sassing her would be a terribly false move. I close my book of sorcery and make my way to Thor's room, feeling not a little huffy.

"Thor?" I say at the door, though the word is covered by a resounding sneeze that shakes the entire castle to the core.

"Thor, for the love of the gods -"

"L-Loki?" a scratchy voice answers. "Come in, brother."

I enter the room, and I'll admit, I'm quite surprised. I'm not used to seeing brother Thor in such a state of vulnerability. He's sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot. Add some blue skin and he'd look like quite a frost giant.

"Mother insisted I come," I say, though admittedly, that wasn't ultimately my entire reason for caving in. I must confess that I wished to bring comfort to my brother, no matter how stubborn my disposition may have been.

"Thank you, brother," Thor answers. "The Royal Healer pronounced my sickness only slightly contagious. You never get sick, though, so why not come and give me a hug?"

I chuckle, stepping closer and accepting my brother's warm embrace. "It's good to see you so cheerful, brother, considering your ailment -"

"Never mind that!" Thor says with a laugh. "That's all anybody does, is talk to the sick about my sickness! I'll be better presently. Anyway, brother, what's life like in the vast realm of the outdoors?"

"I couldn't say."

"Don't tell me you've been cooped up inside! Not with the Lady Sif hot on your trail!"

I smile demurely, thinking of Sif's far-too-obvious advances. "It _is_ rather flattering," I admit, with a shrug, "Though I haven't your confidence, Thor, if you wish complete honesty. I wouldn't know how to respond to her affections."

"She likes you for you," Thor says simply. "Continue to do as you've done."

"I'm stiff and awkward."

"She doesn't mind."

I smile weakly. Even though deep down, I envy Thor for many things (one of them being his easy way with the ladies), I must admit that he is always there for me, like a true brother. The very least I can do is reciprocate, especially when seeing him so pitiful. I embrace him again, taking in his warmth which, though half of it surely comes from his ailment, the other half is just his natural state. His warm, sunny, very Thor-like presence.

"Who would have thought," I murmur, "That you'd be the one comforting _me_, about a lady, of all things? I came here to offer _you_ solace."

"You have done so already, Loki," Thor answers. "I'll be better soon. But for now, I couldn't be happier."

I suppose that's about as good as I can hope for, and for gods' sake, I couldn't be happier, either.


	2. Loki Gets Sick

The Lady Sif has been with Loki all morning. I don't know why I'm feeling envious about it. Then again, he is my brother, and I love him as such. I want to make sure he is well.

I suppose I should clarify a little. Loki caught whatever sickness I had, and he's been taking it even worse than I was. My brother isn't sick often, but when he is, it hits him hard.

I am eagerly waiting outside his door when Sif emerges, arching a brow in my direction.

"He's barely talking," she says softly. "I would advise not disturbing him too much."

"What would I possibly -?"

Sif laughs quietly. "You, Thor? I can't imagine."

Don't get me wrong, Sif is fantastic, but she's always preferred the intellectual type (like Loki) to my brawn. Because of this, she hardly sees me as anything more than a rough-houser that would probably disturb Loki's rest.

I plan on proving her wrong.

As she passes me, I make to enter my brother's room. He's certainly not as loud as I am, when ill - in fact, he's lying there very quietly, looking like the picture of death. It concerns me greatly.

"Loki?" I say, stepping up to his bedside.

He opens his eyes, large and green against his very pale face. He swallows a little.

"Thor."

"Are you up for one more visitor?" I ask.

He smiles weakly. "Of course. It would be a decidedly nice change. I just listened to Sif do everything but profess her love to me for three straight hours."

"That must've been nice."

"Flattering, yes, but exasperating, after awhile. Surely she realizes that I am destined to another -"

"To a horse, brother? Be realistic."

I can tell he's displeased by my mentioning of Sleipnir in such a manner. He rolls over in the bed, curled up in a ball. I cover him with a blanket, hoping to somehow make up for my slight, but he doesn't respond.

"Please, Loki, don't be like this."

Nothing.

"Loki, I just meant, it's not common for gods such as ourselves to - well, I mean, Sleipnir is -"

"We don't choose who we're attracted to, Thor," Loki murmurs, suddenly erupting into a coughing fit. I pat his back awkwardly, wishing I was better at this kind of thing.

"I'm sorry," I say, allowing my hand to rest on his spine. He doesn't look like the god of mischief today, that's for sure. He looks like a child - and I suppose, at least for now, that's what he is.

Loki rolls over to face me again. "Of course I forgive you, Thor. How couldn't I?"

I grin, ruffling up his hair a little. Loki coughs again, doing his best to fight back, but he has never had the upper hand, even in health. I wonder if that bothers him, but I extinguish the thought almost as soon as it arrives.

"I hope I'm better soon," Loki says, once we've calmed a little. "I have so many spells to learn, and I simply cannot understand them whilst in such a state -"

I am tempted to say something half-insulting here, but think better of it. Spells matter to Loki, just as quests matter to me. He has never, ever made fun of me for something I enjoyed, even if it were apparently in jest. I plan to get out of the habit of doing it to him as soon as possible.

"Get well soon, brother," I say, kissing his forehead.

"Ugh, Thor, when did you become so affectionate?" Loki says, trying to squirm away.

"I love you, brother," I say, laughing. "And gods know I hope you're better soon. I miss your trickery - and your spells, for that matter."

Loki laughs. "And the horse racing. Let's not forget that."

I think of Loki's practically prodigious skill at racing, and must agree. "Naturally, brother."

"Will you race me, as soon as I'm well?" Loki asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You'll beat me; you know that."

"Your point?"

I laugh. "Fine, if only to help improve your already-inflated ego."

"Look who's talking!"

I ruffle his hair again. "I have an appointment with Father soon," I say. "I must go."

"Very well. Have fun."

I shrug. "Preparation for inheriting the kingdom and all. It's quite boring."

Loki arches a brow. "Really? Like I said - have fun."

Do I detect a hint of jealousy in his voice? No, surely not. I kiss his forehead again (this time he doesn't squirm) and exit the room, hoping I've done the right thing. Signs tell me that I have.

Er, well - most of them, anyway.


End file.
